Taylor and the Elf on the Shelf
by Kinola
Summary: Taylor McTuttle's family get the creepy little Elf on the Shelf and call it Chippy. A loose adaptation of the Elf on the Shelf special that came out a few years ago. Currently in-progress.
1. The Elf

**Sorry I didn't publish this at Christmastime. :/ But let's be honest, is anyone _willing_ to read or watch Christmas-related material at any other time of the year?**

 **If anyone's wondering, this is somewhat based on the Elf on the Shelf special aired back in 2013. It's funny how those people were getting senitmental about a creepy little elf, huh?**

 **The Elf on the Shelf isn't mine. If it were, I'd be in rehab now.**

* * *

 **McTuttle Residence**

 **December 8, 2013**

 **17 Days Before Christmas**

In the McTuttle house, the first Sunday of December was always dedicated to putting up and then decorating the family Christmas tree. Mom and Dad would wake up early in the morning to put up the tree, then once the family got back from church, they'd take the boxes of ornaments and tinsel down from the attic and to the living room, where the tree had been placed. It was one of the few things the son Taylor enjoyed about Christmastime nowadays, next to Christmas carols and winter break.

Taylor came down the stairs, carrying a box of smaller ornaments. He could hear his sisters Kendyl and Caroline chattering loudly and excitedly from the kitchen. This year, the girls were going to make a garland from popcorn. Dad would help them, of course.

"Here's another box, Dad," Taylor said, placing the box on the coffee table. "I think it's got some ornaments I made when I was little."

"Okay, son," Dad said, poking his head out from the kitchen. "Where's your mother?"

"Getting another box, I think." Taylor took the lid off the box and reached down for an ornament.

 _Bang!_ Something banged against the front door. It took Taylor by surprise. "What was that?" he cried. "Dad? Mom? Did you hear that?"

"I did!" Caroline cried.

"Me, too!" Kendyl added.

"Oh, I think I know what it is," Mom said as she came down the stairs, box in arms. "Kendyl, Caroline, can you get the door?" she called.

"Yes, Mom!" Kendyl and Caroline yelled. Dressed in matching spotted dresses, the two girls raced out of the kitchen, past Taylor, and to the front door and opened it. The two girls squealed delightedly.

"Oh my gosh! It's here, it's here!" they were screaming as they carried a box wrapped in polka-dotted paper to the coffee table. They were quick to unwrap it, and Taylor's eyes widened when he saw that it was...

"An Elf on the Shelf?!" he cried.

"Our very own Elf on the Shelf!" the twins cried joyously, holding the box up. "Santa sent it to us."

Taylor almost grimaced at the sight of the infamous Elf on the Shelf. The elf was dressed in what could best be described as red footie pajamas, with a red pointed cap on the top of its head, white mittens on its hands, and a white collar that looked to be a cross between a jabot and a ruff arounds it neck. Its ever-so long legs were drawn up to its chest, and its ever-so long arms were wrapped around the knees. Its eyes were looking upward towards Caroline with a smile that was way too guileless to make it cute.

Taylor had heard about the Elf on the Shelf long before today. One of his friends at school had had one out for a couple of Christmases. Those elves (if they could be called elves, because elves shouldn't dress in footie pajamas and hug their knees and look innocent) came into existence based on a story written by a mother and daughter pair. The story was allegedly based on the legend of how elves would spy on kids around Christmastime and report their observations to Santa Claus so he can dictate who's been naughty and who's been nice. Taylor didn't think any of that was based on a legend. Christmas elves (if they existed) _shouldn't_ be doing things like that. Their job was to make toys and work on Santa's sleigh and feed the reindeer and raise human babies that snuck into Santa's sack of toys by accident. Why would people want these kind of elves spying on their kids? It was bad enough that "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" instilled the belief that Santa watches you all the time, even when you're sleeping.

Creepy little elf.

"It finally came? Thank goodness," said Taylor's dad as he stepped into the living room with the bowl of popcorn garland. "I ordered it the day after Thanksgiving, and the site said it'd be delivered in a few days. I though it'd never come."

"Read the story to us, Daddy!" said Caroline.

"Please, Daddy! Pretty please!" Kendyl begged.

"Okay, okay." Dad sat down in the armchair. "Hand the box over and then have a seat."

As Dad began reading the story, Taylor's mom began decorating. When decorating the Christmas tree in this house, the ornaments came first, then the garland. Taylor helped out. As he hung a plastic candy cane on a branch, he leaned towards his mother.

 _"Why_ did we get one?" Taylor hissed at her. "Those things are creepy."

"The girls insisted," Mom replied, keeping her voice low. "And I'm sure this will be a one-time thing. Like how you once left carrots for Santa to give to his reindeer. Remember?"

Taylor did remember that. The carrots had been untouched when he'd gone downstairs Christmas morning. That sight marked the very first time Taylor doubted Santa's existence. He'd been seven then.

"Did you hear that, you two?" Dad called to Taylor and his mom. "In order to get his magic, the elf has to have a name."

"Yeah, let's name him!" said Kendyl.

"He needs to have a good name," added Caroline, pointing to the elf, still in its box.

"Okay," said Taylor. "We'll call him Stinky McStinkpants." He approached the elf. "Hear that? You're name is gonna be Stinky McStinkpants. Now fly back to the North Pole and don't come back."

"No! Not Stinky!" Caroline cried.

"Please don't call him Stinky, Mommy!" Kendyl begged. _"Please!"_

Mom gave Taylor an admonishing look. "Now Taylor, we shouldn't call our Elf on the Shelf something like Stinky McStinkpants. Or Loser," she added when Taylor opened his mouth to suggest another name. "I'm sure we can do better than that. Let's brainstorm. There's Hoppy and Biscuit, or Sugar and Spice…"

Dad joined in. "Kringle, Doodle, Butters, Wintergreen…"

"How about Prince, or Dazzle?" Kendyl asked.

"No, Kendyl. We should give him a Christmas name!" Caroline objected. "Like Garland, or Mistletoe, or Jolly…"

Taylor rolled his eyes as his family continued thinking of names for their Elf on the Shelf. Fiddlesticks, Jesse, Frisbee, Speedy, Swifty, Angel, Zippy, Mickey, Louie, Alex, Ricky, Buddy, Chewy, Bubbles, Ernie, and Happy were the names suggested by his parents. Ornament, Yule, Fluffy, Squeaky, Tinsel, Silver, Hubert, Jimmy, Elvis, Snappy, Tattle, Windy, Donner, Blitzen, Kris, and Nippy, meanwhile, were the names suggested by the twins. Caroline continued to insist that the elf should have a Christmas name, while Kendyl thought up of non-Christmas ones. At one point, Kendyl complained that they should have gotten a girl elf so they could name her something like Claire or Jane or even Midge. That was before Caroline suggested naming the elf after one of Santa's reindeer.

Taylor took the time to hang a few ornaments on the tree. It felt like an hour before anyone spoke to him.

"Taylor, can you think of anything?" his mom inquired. "Nothing seems to stick!"

"Not really, no," Taylor answered. He placed the snowflake ornament he'd decorated back in kindergarten on a higher branch.

"Come on, son," said Taylor's dad. "Anything at all?"

"Please don't give him a mean name," Taylor heard Caroline mutter.

"I don't really know," Taylor said, trying and failing to not sound irritable. He hung a blue ornament on the tree. "I mean, does it _really_ matter? We could call him something like Spotty or Chippy and it wouldn't make a difference."

"Spotty and Chippy, huh?" Dad wondered. "What do you girls think? Chippy or Spotty?"

"I like Chippy more than Spotty," said Caroline.

"Me, too," said Kendyl. "Chippy the elf sounds a _lot_ better than Spotty the elf. Let's call him Chippy, Mom and Dad."

Dad looked to Mom. "Dear?"

"I like Chippy, too," said Mom, smiling. "So then it's settled. As of right now, our new Elf on the Shelf shall be known as Chippy!"

The girls jumped up and down. "He has a name! He has a name! He can get his magic now!" they chanted.

Taylor frowned at Chippy the Elf on the Shelf. _Should've been called Creepy the elf,_ Taylor thought. _Or Nightmare the elf._

Taylor McTuttle was not looking forward to having Christmas with the Elf on the Shelf.


	2. The Story

Chippy the elf remained in his box for the rest of the day. He did not move when the McTuttle family finished decorating the tree. He did not move when the family decided to watch a few of the Rankin-Bass Christmas specials on TV. He did not move when the family sat down to have dinner. And he still did not move when it was time for Taylor and the twins to go to bed.

But when Taylor came downstairs the next morning, Chippy was not in his box. Kendyl and Caroline said that Chippy would end up in a different spot every morning. "It's from his magic," they said. Then the twins went in search of their Elf on the Shelf.

The twins searched all throughout the lower level of the house for him, but it was Taylor who found him. He found Chippy on the second shelf of their bookcase—still sitting and hugging his knees and eyes still large and vacant—right next to a framed photo of him from when he was younger, sitting on the lap of a mall Santa. Taylor was surprised to see the photograph more than he was surprised to see the elf; he hadn't seen it in a long time. The picture had originally been taken around five or six years ago, when he was an only child.

"That's weird. Why is this out here again?" Taylor studied the picture, lightly scoffing at the sight of the woolen green sweater he was wearing. His mother must have made him put it on. "I can't believe I actually wore that. I hope no one at school _ever_ sees this." Then he turned to the elf.

The elf _had_ to have moved somehow. There _had_ to be a reasonable explanation for it, other than its "magic" making it move. And this picture _had_ to have come out for a reason. Perhaps Taylor's mom or dad moved Chippy during the night, and then they took the photo out from wherever they'd put it and set it next to the elf. Yes, that seemed like the more plausible explanation. And yet...

"Hey, can you fly for me, please?" Taylor whispered to the elf. "Maybe once around the room?"

Chippy did nothing.

Taylor sighed. "I didn't think so." And he went off to have breakfast and get ready for school.

* * *

 **East Park School**

 **December 9, 2013**

 **16 Days before Christmas**

Austin Pitts laughed as Taylor told him and Craig Moore everything that had been happening with his family's Elf on the Shelf since he came to their home yesterday. How they had gotten Chippy in the mail, how Chippy earned his name thanks to him, and how Taylor had found Chippy sitting next to an old picture of him with a mall Santa in the living room the next morning.

The picture's reappearance still bothered Taylor. His mom had originally put it away somewhere—he couldn't remember where—in order to make room for some decorative figurines she'd managed to find. He didn't know if she had planned to put it back out for another Christmas, but he never asked. And she didn't seem to remember.

Until this Christmas.

"An Elf on the Shelf? That's the _stupidest_ Christmas marketing campaign ever!" Austin said, catching his breath. The three boys were sitting at a table in the center of the cafeteria. The walls were decorated with green and red tinsel, the windows with snowflake and snowmen decals, and the lunch ladies were giving out Christmas cupcakes and cookies for a quarter. Taylor and Craig both got cookies, but Austin got a chocolate Christmas cupcake with a mini candy cane on top.

"I know," Taylor said as he took a bite out of his turkey sandwich. "Those things are creepy. Always smiling, always cute. I'm surprised that I actually fell asleep last night. I thought staring at its face would keep me up."

"I hope my family never gets one," Austin declared. "If they do, I'll throw it out. Christmas isn't the time to feel like you're being stalked. Speaking of which, didn't _your_ family have one before, Craig?"

Craig was about to put a spoonful of mac and cheese into his mouth when Austin had asked him the question. "Oh God Almighty, don't remind me," he grumbled. "It was my little brother's idea to get one, okay? My mom went out to a Target two weeks before Christmas last year and bought one. She got a girl elf. It looked like a boy elf, except it had a skirt. We called it Peppermint. I hated that thing more than anything."

Austin snickered. Taylor couldn't help but ask, "What was it like having one, Craig? Why did you hate it?"

"I think my dad was the one moving it around," Craig continued, "but every day before Christmas, it would pop up in a weird spot. In the shower, in the sink, on the toilet, on top of the stove, even in the car."

"Your elf hid in the _bathroom_?" Taylor exclaimed. Then he groaned and covered his face with his hands. "That's all I need to worry about; an elf watching me use the toilet."

"Yeah. It was always crazy when Ricky or Brooke managed to find it. They were really crazy about the Elf on the Shelf. I mean, _really_ crazy."

"Did you guys bring it back out this Christmas?" Taylor inquired.

The expression on Craig's face became strange. "Well…"

"You didn't take it out, right?" Austin guessed as he licked his cupcake's candy cane.

"No, no exactly."

"You guys got rid of it, then," Austin declared. "You guys got sick of it and threw it in the garbage. I'm right, aren't I?"

"I don't know what happened," Craig said, his voice flat. "The day after Christmas, my mom and I went to bring my Aunt Millie some food and her gifts. She got sick right before Christmas Eve, and she didn't want to come over and make anyone else sick. Dad was home with Brooke and Ricky, and I think Peppermint was sitting on the mantle above the fireplace. We were over at Aunt Millie's place for a few hours, and when we got back…" He trailed off, unsure.

"What happened to your Elf on the Shelf?" Austin pressed on. "Come on, man, tell us!"

"Mom and I didn't really know what happened when we were gone." Craig toyed with his plastic spork. "It looked like a twister hit our living room. The tree was on the floor, some ornaments were broken, and all the presents we got were destroyed. Our back door was thrown off its hinges. Ricky was scared out of his mind, Brooke was crying, and Peppermint was gone."

"Gone?" Austin and Taylor echoed.

"Yes, gone." Craig looked solemn. "Dad said that some crazy punk broke into our house and caused the mess. He'd reported it to the police, and they said they were getting reports all across town. But later that night, before bed, Ricky and Brooke came up to me and said—"

The bell rang.

"Oh, darn!" Austin exclaimed. "Lunch is over already? I wanted to hear the rest of the story."

"Can you tell us the last of it, Craig? Pretty please?" Taylor pleaded.

"I'll tell you guys tomorrow," Craig said, standing up. He took his trash to the garbage bin. Then he came for his lunchbox and walked away.

Austin sighed. "I _really_ wanted to hear what happened," he said. "I'll bet Craig's elf became possessed by the devil and terrorized his family. Wouldn't you agree, Taylor?"

"Maybe," Taylor replied, shrugging. "I haven't seen the elf work his magic since he came. I don't even know if he's got magic at all."

"Give it a little time," Austin told him. "Maybe if your sisters are bugging you, you could get the elf to chase them off!" He laughed loudly.

Taylor laughed, too. But he didn't feel like laughing.

* * *

"I have to drop off the girls for a playdate," Taylor's mom said as he shut the door behind him. She had already gotten her coat and hat on, and was helping Kendyl get her coat on. "Will you be okay on your own for a little while?"

"Yeah," Taylor answered as he shrugged off his backpack. "Who's the playdate with? Zoey? Ava?"

"Grace," Taylor's mom replied. "She and her family live in the townhouses by the supermarket. Maybe once I drop the girls off, I'll buy some Christmas cookie dough and place an order for our turkey. I think I'll also order one of those Yule log cakes, too. The one your Aunt Donna got last year was _really_ good. Now while I'm gone, can you please put the stockings up over the fireplace?"

Taylor shrugged. "I guess so. I don't have that much homework." That was a plus for school around Christmastime; teachers would not assign as much homework as they usually did. He only had a worksheet to do for math class, a worksheet to do for Spanish class, and to read a few pages from his science textbook.

"Don't forget to hang the stockings with care," Caroline said as she put on her mittens.

"In the hope that Saint Nicholas will soon be there," Kendyl added with a giggle. "I hope he'll bring some candy for me."

"Okay, sure," Taylor mumbled dismissively.

"Remember not to answer the door for anyone," Taylor's mom told him as she led the girls out. "If someone is trying to break into the house, be sure to call the police. Your friend Craig's mom told me about how her home was broken into around this time last year."

"Actually, it was the day after Christmas," Taylor said to himself.

"What was that dear?" Taylor's mom was looking at him funny.

"Oh! I said...I said 'I hope that doesn't ruin our Christmas'?" he fibbed.

"Hmm..." Taylor's mom scrutinized him for a few seconds, then said with a smile, "Be good while I'm gone, okay?" And with that, she shut the door behind her. Taylor heard the lock turn a second later.

Taylor set to his task right away. He hung his dad's stocking first. It was navy blue and had his first name sewn on it in silver thread. Mom's stocking, which he hung next, was just like Dad's, except it was a cranberry red and had her name sewn on in gold thread. Mom had bought and customized the stockings with their names after the twins were born; Taylor's was green, Kendyl's was purple, and Caroline's was pink. He was about to reach for his own when he heard a sound coming from the kitchen.

Taylor looked up. "What was that?" he wondered out loud. He looked towards the bookshelf, where, to his immense relief, he saw Chippy sitting there next to his old photo, just like this morning.

Taylor decided that he needed a snack, and so walked into the kitchen to get some yogurt from the refrigerator. He got out a cup of Trix yogurt and was about to get a spoon to eat it with when he heard another sound. This time, it came from the family room.

"Who's there?" Taylor immediately demanded. He stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Show yourself! I mean it. I'll call the police if you don't."

Nothing happened. Annoyed, Taylor marched into the family room, where he found the rest of the stockings hanging up above the fireplace. Flabbergasted, he turned to find that Chippy…was still sitting next to the photo on the bookshelf, in that same position.

"Oh, no, I'm not buying this," Taylor stated, marching over to the Elf on the Shelf. "Who do you think you are? Don't make me think that _you_ didn't do this, elf. Who else is home aside from me?"

Chippy said nothing.

Taylor wondered briefly if he was starting to go crazy. _Look at me,_ he thought to himself. _I'm talking to an Elf on the Shelf!_

"My friend had one of your little friends at his house last Christmas, you know," Taylor said. "The elf's name was Peppermint. It was a girl elf."

Chippy didn't move.

Taylor went on. "It was always hiding in weird places, then on the day after Christmas, his house got wrecked, and Peppermint disappeared. His dad said someone burglarized them, but I don't believe it." He leaned closer to Chippy. "You have some kind of magic in you, right? You're supposed to. You and Peppermint and all those other Elves on the Shelves."

Chippy did not budge.

"Prove it," Taylor said, stepping back. "I want you to do something magical right now. I want to see if you guys can move around, like they said you would." He folded his arms. "Show me, Chippy. I'm not getting any older."

Taylor McTuttle stared long and hard at Chippy. The dopey Elf on the Shelf remained still, knees hugged against chest, his expression guile and blank. The sight was making the boy infuriated. He wanted to reach out, grab Chippy, and throw him across the room. But his sisters had said that would make the elf lose its magic. And if Chippy wanted to prove itself to Taylor, it couldn't lose its magic, right?

Taylor groaned and gripped the sides of his head. "This is ridiculous!" he cried. "You've been here only a day, and you're already driving me crazy. If you're not going to do anything, then don't bother with me."

And with that, he turned away from Chippy and marched up the stairs to his room. He had homework to do, and he wasn't going to let some little Christmas decoration distract him.

Shame he continued to think about Chippy and his possible magic even after his mother came back home.

* * *

 **Hey, you guys. I made a mistake. The Elf on the Shelf movie was released in 2011, not 2013. However, I will not change the dates seen in this story; it's already been set.**


	3. The Project

**East Park School**

 **December 11, 2013**

 **14 Days Before Christmas**

"Time's up," Mrs. Foxall, Taylor's geography teacher announced. "Exchange your quizzes with another person. Sign your name at the bottom so you each know who graded your quiz. Remember, you can _only_ mark incorrect answers with _red_ pens or markers. Not black or blue or even green. I don't want a repeat of what happened last time that happened."

"It was _one time_ , Mrs. Foxall!" Austin called out from the back of the classroom.

Taylor sighed as he looked down at his own quiz. It had been all about the Baltic states. Ten questions long and he'd only gotten through five of them. But instead of thinking about the answers, he'd been thinking about Chippy. Without a word, he picked up his quiz and passed it to Jonathan Wilcox, the boy who sat behind him. But before Jonathan could take it from him, it was snatched up by Jackie Roser, one of the smartest kids in the grade. She studied Taylor's quiz and grinned at him.

"Well, this is unusual," she mused. "You don't seem to be halfway done. Oh, well!" She placed it down on her own desk with a flourish. "You can use this experience to do better next time, McTuttle." Jackie usually loved to demean those that didn't do as well as she did.

Taylor groaned before turning around. He'd been handed Amelia Han's quiz; she was one of Jackie's best friends, and just as smart as her. He took out his red colored pencil, signed his name at the bottom of the sheet, and waited for Mrs. Foxall to begin reading the answers.

"Okay, class," Mrs. Foxall announced. "Question number one: what is the capital of Estonia? What did you get, Mr. Potts?" She looked over to Austin.

"Uh…Vilnius?" he asked. "That's what I put on my quiz."

"No, that's incorrect," Mrs. Foxall replied. "Look at the quiz you got. Who did they put for the answer?"

"Riga?" Austin sounded unsure. "I got Jonathan's quiz. That's what he put down."

"Incorrect again," Mrs. Foxall sighed. "Would anyone else like to guess? Miss Jackie."

"It's Tallinn," Jackie Roser announced. "Tallinn is the capital of Estonia."

"Yes, very good, Miss Roser," said Mrs. Foxall. Jackie Roser beamed in response. "If the answer is wrong, mark it with a checkmark or an X. If the answer is right, leave it alone."

Taylor looked down at Amelia Han's quiz. She'd gotten her answer right. He felt tempted to mark it wrong, but knew that she would tell Mrs. Foxall as well as Jackie, and they'd both demand to know why he would do that. He listened to the teacher ask the next question and see if she would get at least one answer wrong.

To his disappointment, Amelia got all the answers right. When it was time for everyone to return the quizzes to their respective owners, Taylor never got his back. Jackie walked up to Mrs. Foxall and handed it to her, along with her own. She said something to her, the teacher nodded, then she went back to her own desk.

Taylor glared at her. She pretended she didn't see him.

Taylor wondered if Mrs. Foxall would have to say something to him.

At the end of class, Taylor was called to Mrs. Foxall's desk. With a sigh, he picked up his notebook and trudged up there. "Yes, Mrs. Foxall?" he asked.

"Jackie told me that you only had five questions answered on your quiz," Mrs. Foxall explained. "Were you distracted by something?"

"Yes," Taylor muttered. Then he realized what he said. "I mean no!" Mrs. Foxall frowned. "Well…yes _and_ no. But it isn't what you think, Mrs. F!"

"It's okay to be honest with me, Mr. McTuttle," she said reassuringly. "I know things are going to be stressful before winter break, and I want you to have good grades before you go off and celebrate the holidays."

"Okay," Taylor said uncertainly. "Do you want me to retake the quiz?"

"Unfortunately, no," Mrs. Foxall replied. "I'm going to put the grades in the gradebook during my lunch break. I have something else in mind. Do you remember that extra credit assignment that I gave out before Thanksgiving?"

"Write an essay about something that has to do with the Baltic countries, right?"

"Of course, but it's actually about Christmas traditions in any one of the Baltic countries." Mrs. Foxall opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a green sheet. "Information about the extra credit project can be found on this paper. Use it as a reference for when you're writing it out."

Taylor took the rubric sheet from her and looked at it. The extra credit assignment said that he had to write a paragraph about the country he was researching, two paragraphs about a couple of their Christmas traditions, one paragraph about their beliefs regarding Santa Claus, and one paragraph concluding everything as a whole. It had to be no less than two pages long, typed, double-spaced, and with Times New Roman font, size twelve. A decorative title page was optional, but if decided to do one, he would be free to style it however he liked.

It looked easy to do. Fun, even. But Taylor's eyes widened in surprise when he noticed a sentence that stated that he was to read it to the whole class on the day it was due. "Why do I have to read it to the class?" he inquired.

"So you can teach everyone what you've learned," Mrs. Foxall replied. "It's okay if you don't want to do it, Mr. McTut—"

"No, I want to do this," he interrupted her. "I'd like to do it, Mrs. F."

"Good!" Mrs. Foxall brightened. "Very, very good. You'll be the sixth one in class who'll be doing this, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"Yes. I've got Mr. Potts, Miss Han, Miss Smith, Mr. Willis, Miss Roser, and now you. The more, the merrier."

"Really." Taylor stiffened at the mention of Jackie's last name. "Uh, is that why she talked to you?"

"Mostly. She offered to help you with it, if you want it."

"I'll be fine. Really, I will. Can I please go now? I gotta go to my next class."

"Oh, yes, you can. Have a good day, Mr. McTuttle. I am looking forward to hearing what you will write about."

* * *

"So, Mrs. Foxall told me that you're going to do the extra credit assignment after all."

"Go away, Jackie," Taylor snapped. After eating his lunch, Taylor decided to go down to the library in an effort to get a head start on his essay. He had another twenty minutes before his next class; he could use the spare time. He'd taken out a book on Christmas traditions and was skimming through the first pages when Jackie, who frequented the library during her lunch hour, decided to walk up to him.

"I could give you some assistance, you know," she went on. "My big brother had Mrs. Foxall for his geography teacher. He did the assignment two years ago, and did so well he got _all_ the extra credit points."

"I can manage on my own, Jackie," Taylor told her without looking up. "Really. I can."

"You say so," Jackie said, sitting next to him. "But suppose you ran into some trouble along the way. What if you parents couldn't help you? What if you were typing it out on your computer and it got attacked by a virus? Or rather yet, what if you used information without properly citing it? Plagiarism is a big problem in essays, according to my big brother."

"Why would I be worried about plagiarism?" Taylor wondered aloud. "All you do is write a sentence differently from the original."

"Yes, but what if that wasn't good enough?" Jackie went on. "College students risk plagiarism when writing even one sentence in their essays. My brother says they have to use a _works cited page_ in order to prove that they weren't copying off anybody."

"Yeah, but us middle school students haven't learned that yet," Taylor stated. "The teachers never taught it. And there was no mention of having to use a works cited page on this project. It wouldn't make sense to put one in when they didn't want it."

"Okay, but maybe the teacher will give _more_ extra credit points to those who _know_ how to make one."

"But maybe she _won't_. That could be the problem if someone were to do an extra credit essay without being told to do one. Besides, you have to do your own essay, Jackie. The rubric sheet didn't say that you could help anyone. Or even get help."

"No, it didn't. That doesn't mean we can't help each other."

Taylor gritted his teeth. Jackie Roser was the kind of person who wouldn't take "no" for an answer. She would persist until you gave in. Her "help" consisted of telling you what to do and how to write something, and it would get to the point where she was practically "helping" you by pushing you to the side and completing it for you.

Craig Moore had found this out the hard way last year. He'd been writing an expository essay for Language Arts class and she'd offered to help him. Since he was having trouble, he decided to accept. He quickly learned how terrible a mistake this was; Jackie had dictated the entire essay-writing process, from what to write, which words to use, where a punctuation ought to go, and how many number of pages there had to be. It almost got to the point where she almost _took over_ and wrote it for him.

Even when he had finished it up and handed it in, Jackie somehow managed to make a passing mention to the teacher about her helping Craig. When the essay was graded and returned, it came with a little note telling Craig to thank Jackie for her kind act. Craig's essay managed to get a good grade, but to him, it felt hollow and tainted.

"Why are you so worried about what I do, Jacqueline?" Taylor demanded to know. "Can't you just leave me be?"

"I could help you get a better grade," she said.

"I can get a better grade on my own, Jacqueline," Taylor snapped. "Now go away. I'm busy."

Jackie didn't go away. She stood there and stared at him. It felt like Chippy was right there, staring at him with those creepy, cheerful eyes. As much as it bugged him, Taylor chose to ignore her. He focused on the book more and pretended that she wasn't there. After about five minutes of silence, Jackie decided to speak up again.

"If you want a better grade so much, you may have to work with me," she declared, "and I have good reason for why you should. You were distracted during the quiz today. I saw. Something is up with you, McTuttle. What is it?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Taylor replied tartly.

"If you don't tell me, I'll try to figure it out!" Jackie said, her tone singsong.

"Ugh!" Taylor slapped the book shut and glared at Jackie Roser. "If I let you help me with my stupid extra credit assignment, will you _stop bothering me_?" He heard the librarian shush him, but he ignored her.

"Of course I would!" Jackie said cheerily. "You are doing—"

"But I have a few conditions," Taylor cut in. The school bell rang as he listed them. "One: you are _not_ going to take over from me. I remember what you did when you got Craig to let you help him with his work that one time, and I don't want to go through the same thing he did. Two: I get the final say in whatever you suggest. Three: we will only work on this in the library. And four: I can't work on this today." He counted each reason off his finger.

"Why not?" Jackie demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"My parents want me to help them put up some more decorations at home," Taylor explained. "I already agreed to do it."

Jackie stared at him, then sighed. "Fine. Are we doing it tomorrow, then?"

Taylor nodded his head. "We'd better get going to our next classes," he said. "I got gym." Nodding her head, Jackie Roser trotted off. Taylor picked up his book and went to the librarian to get it checked out.

 _I wonder if Chippy will be happy to meet Jackie,_ Taylor thought to himself.

* * *

 **Came pretty close to uploading this on Christmas Day, but was too busy being with family to do it (my family and I host Christmas at our house).**

 **Next chapter will hopefully include more (one-sided) Chippy and Taylor interactions.**


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